Chapter IV - Unpleasant Business

It was now nine o’clock, rather a late hour for callers in the
country, and Mrs. Barclay waited not without curiosity to hear the
nature of the business which had brought her two visitors at that
time.

“Take seats, gentlemen,” she said, with the courtesy habitual to her.

Squire Davenport, who was disposed to consider that he had a right to
the best of everything, seated himself in the rocking-chair, and
signed his companion to a cane chair beside him.

“Mr. Kirk,” he commenced, “is thinking of coming to Pentonville to
live.”

“I am glad to hear it,” said Mrs. Barclay politely. Perhaps she would
not have said this if she had known what was coming next.

“He is a carpenter,” continued the squire, “and, as we have none in
the village except old Mr. Wade, who is superannuated, I think he will
find enough to do to keep him busy.”

“I should think so,” assented the widow.

“If he does not, I can employ him a part of the time on my land.”

“What has all this to do with me?” thought Mrs. Barclay.

She soon learned.

“Of course he will need a house,” pursued the squire, “and as his
family is small, he thinks this house will just suit him.”

“But I don’t wish to sell,” said the widow hurriedly. “I need this
house for Ben and myself.”

“You could doubtless find other accommodations. I dare say you could
hire a couple of rooms from Elnathan Perkins.”

“I wouldn’t live in that old shell,” said Mrs. Barclay rather
indignantly, “and I am sure Ben wouldn’t.”

“I apprehend Benjamin will have no voice in the matter,” said Squire
Davenport stiffly. “He is only a boy.”

“He is my main support, and my main adviser,” said Mrs. Barclay, with
spirit, “and I shall not take any step which is disagreeable to him.”

Mr. Kirk looked disappointed, but the squire gave him an assuring
look, as the widow could see.

“Perhaps you may change your mind,” said the squire significantly. “I
am under the impression that I hold a mortgage on this property.”

“Yes, sir,” assented Mrs. Barclay apprehensively.

“For the sum of seven hundred dollars, if I am not mistaken.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I shall have need of this money for other purposes, and will trouble
you to take it up.”

“I was to have three months’ notice,” said the widow, with a troubled
look.

“I will give you three months’ notice to-night,” said the squire.

“I don’t know where to raise the money,” faltered Mrs. Barclay.

“Then you had better sell to my friend here. He will assume the
mortgage and pay you three hundred dollars.”

“But that will be only a thousand dollars for the place.”

“A very fair price, in my opinion, Mrs. Barclay.”

“I have always considered it worth fifteen hundred dollars,” said the
widow, very much disturbed.

“I know that you and your cousin are trying to take advantage of my
poverty,” said Mrs. Barclay bitterly. “If you are a carpenter, why
don’t you build a house for yourself, instead of trying to deprive me
of mine?”

“That’s my business,” said Kirk rudely.

“Mr. Kirk cannot spare the time to build at present,” said the squire.

“Then why doesn’t he hire rooms from Elnathan Perkins, as you just
recommended to me?”

“They wouldn’t suit him,” said the squire curtly. “He has set his
mind on this house.”

“Squire Davenport,” said Mrs. Barclay, in a softened voice, “I am sure
you cannot understand what you ask of me when you seek to take my home
and turn me adrift. Here I lived with my poor husband; here my boy
was born. During my married life I have had no other home. It is a
humble dwelling, but it has associations and charms for me which it
can never have for no one else. Let Mr. Kirk see some other house and
leave me undisturbed in mine.”

“Humph!” said the squire, shrugging his shoulders; “you look upon the
matter from a sentimental point of view. That is unwise. It is
simply a matter of business. You speak of the house as yours. In
reality, it is more mine than yours, for I have a major interest in
it. Think over my proposal coolly, and you will see that you are
unreasonable. Mr. Kirk may be induced to give you a little more–say
three hundred and fifty dollars–over and above the mortgage, which,
as I said before, he is willing assume.”

“How does it happen that you are willing to let the mortgage remain,
if he buys, when you want the money for other purposes?” asked the
widow keenly.

“He is a near relative of my wife, and that makes the difference, I
apprehend.”

“Well, madam, what do you say?” asked Kirk briskly.

“I say this, that I will keep the house if I can.”

“You needn’t expect that I will relent,” said the squire hastily.

“I do not, for I see there is no consideration in your heart for a
poor widow; but I cannot help thinking that Providence will raise up
some kind friend who will buy the mortgage, or in some other way will
enable me to save my home.”

You are acting very foolishly, Mrs. Barclay, as you will realize in
time. I give you a week in which to change your mind. Till then my
friend Kirk’s offer stands good. After that I cannot promise. If the
property sold at auction I shouldn’t he surprised if it did not fetch
more than the amount of my lien upon it.”

“I will trust in Providence, Squire Davenport.”

“Providence won’t pay off your mortgage, ma’am,” said Kirk, with a
coarse laugh.

Mrs. Barclay did not answer. She saw that he was a man of coarse
fiber and did not care to notice him.

“Come along, Kirk,” said the squire. “I apprehend she will be all
right after a while. Mrs. Barclay will see her own interest when she
comes to reflect.”

“Good-evening, ma’am,” said Kirk.

Mrs. Barclay inclined her head slowly, but did not reply.

When the two had left the house she sank into a chair and gave herself
to painful thoughts. She had known that Squire Davenport had the
right to dispossess her, but had not supposed he would do so as long
as she paid the interest regularly. In order to do this, she and Ben
had made earnest efforts, and denied themselves all but the barest
necessities. Thus far she had succeeded. The interest on seven
hundred dollars at six per cent. had amounted to forty-two dollars,
and this was a large sum to pay, but thus far they had always had it
ready. That Squire Davenport, with his own handsome mansion, would
fix covetous eyes on her little home, she had not anticipated, but it
had come to pass.

As to raising seven hundred dollars to pay off the mortgage, or induce
any capitalist to furnish it, she feared it would be quite impossible.

She anxiously waited for Ben’s return from the Town Hall in order to
consult with him.